The Seven Deadly Sinners
by He-Who-Is-Bored
Summary: An antisocial warlock, a dim-witted fighter, a materialistic paladin, an alcoholic warlord, a cleric with a penchant for misinterpreting scripture, a greedy wizard, and an amorous bard form a shaky alliance in order to rob the world blind. Loosely follows the plot of my own D&D campaign. Rated T to be safe, likely to rise in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first ever shot at a fan fiction; so let me know if I am doing something wrong, or if you have any suggestions. I welcome any input whatsoever, however I do reserve my right to follow my own plot. I hope to improve my writing as I continue this, so if there is anything that you find substandard, please inform me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Dungeons & Dragons. In fact, I claim ownership of _nothing_ that can be legally proven to belong to any other party. **

* * *

**Chapter I**

Our story begins in the port of Naret, a bustling city fed by the trade between the inland states of the continent Eisel, and the Arkhozian Nations across the sea. It was early summer, in the full swing of the midday heat, that a rather conspicuous individual decided to take a nap in the shade of the trees that bordered the market square in the lower merchants' quarter.

Kyr sighed, trying to ignore the stares of passers by. Sure, he was accustomed to being watched; a six-foot Tiefling with pale rust-coloured skin, and a pair of gently curling horns extending back from his brow was bound to turn some heads. Still, he mused, it could have been worse. He wasn't one of those unfortunate enough to have wings or tails, and he even had horns that stayed fairly close to his skull, easy to cover with a hood. Still, he was clearly a Tiefling, and Tieflings weren't exactly welcomed most places.

Kyr lazily got on his feet, dusting off his plain traveling cloak and wandering off in search of a less public patch of shade. Damn it, all he wanted was a chance to get some sleep! Was some peace and quiet so much to ask? Muttering to himself about annoying city-folk, he turned down a quiet side street, eyes searching lazily for anywhere that looked good for a nap. After a few minutes of searching, he spotted tree that stood off to the side of the street, shading the front of what appeared to be some kind of tavern.

_Score!_ Kyr smiled as he noted that there were still very few people out and about due to the heat. satisfied with what he saw, Kyr strode over to the tree and slumped back against the smooth trunk, allowing himself to slide to the ground with his back against the trunk.

_Why does it always have to get so damn hot? When I get the money for it, I swear I'm buying a cooling charm. Why is it that the only stuff that I actually want demands the cooperation of a wizard? How in the nine hells am I supposed to afford the services of a blasted __wizard__? I wish there was a way to learn the rituals for myself. What good is power if I can't even use it to cool myself off?_

Kyr sighed, staring up at the gently swaying branches and let his consciousness drift away. So immersed in his rest, he failed to notice one very, very inebriated Dragonborn lurching out of the tavern. Said Dragonborn looked around, then staggered towards a cistern on the far side of the property, a few yards from the tree. He was made painfully aware of the creature's presence as the seven-foot behemoth deciding that the contents of his stomach could do with some fresh air, splattered his lunch on the cobblestone pavement, not two feet away from a certain unsuspecting Tiefling.

Startled by the sudden sound so close to him, Kyr leapt up and, backpedaled away from the source of the noise, only to collide with the rim of a cistern and be sent careening over the edge into the sewers below.

_Why do the Fates hate me?_

* * *

Delzor found his present situation troubling. He had entered the caves in search of an adventure, remembering that monsters loved hiding in caves. Had Delzor taken some time to consider his actions, he would have prepared a light, and maybe even some rope, before charging into the cave in search of battle. He realized that mistake _after_ he managed to follow the only path down a subterranean cliff with no way to return to the surface.

That wasn't important yet. No, Delzor was merely unsure of how to proceed, having come across a branch in the tunnel. So, naturally, Delzor sat down in the tunnel and turned to his last resort: His brain.

_Eeny meeny miney moe… Left it is then._

Delzor hated waiting to think of ideas; fortunately his mother had once taught him how to choose between multiple options. Pleased with his decision, Delzor resumed his underground adventure, whistling off-key as he strode blindly through the dark.

* * *

Kyr woke to foul odor, and a pounding in his skull. Someone was going to pay very dearly for this. Ignoring the throbbing in his head, and the caking blood all along the right side of his body, Kyr slowly lifted himself off the cold stone and shifted into a seated position.

_Oh Gods, am I in the sewers? Of all the luck, I had to fall into the cistern and pass out. Thank Corellon that I landed on the causeway, instead of the channel._

He shook his head, causing his brain to scream in protest. Properly reminded of his injuries, Kyr checked for broken bones. Finding his limbs functional, and concluding that there were no debilitating injuries, Kyr put his thoughts to more important matters.

_Okay; Step one: Find a way out of here, Step two: Get revenge on the guy who caused this. I will __not__ be humiliated by a damn drunk!_

His goals decided Kyr got to his feet. He grinned, striding forth as best he could manage in search of a maintenance exit.

* * *

Delzor was getting frustrated at the lack of excitement to be found. If the smell was anything to go by, he was in some kind of sewer, occasionally lit by spots of light that looked rather like round holes in the ceiling. Fortunately, the causeways were reasonably wide, with small, arching foot bridges at each junction. Still, sewers were boring, not at all the kind of place to find things to fight. Grumbling to himself, Delzor continued his progress, until rounding a corner to find himself staring into a pair of vivid yellow eyes. The eyes of a predator, calmly stalking its prey.

Alarmed by his proximity to this unexpected threat, Delzor struck its midsection, propelling the humanoid figure back several feet. Making swift use of his time, the large half-orc let loose a guttural roar, hefted his immense club, and charged.

As he approached his intended victim, Delzor raised his weapon in preparation for an overhead strike, just as his victim made his move. A murky red light coalesced into motes of blazing magenta, as the figure released its crackling arcane bolt in the face of a rather surprised Delzor.

Howling in rage as his mind reeled in searing pain, Delzor flailed his club blindly in the direction of his opponent. His efforts rewarded with the sudden resistance accompanied by the satisfying squelch as his quarry was flung back by the heavy blow. Delzor heard the popping sound that usually came with breaking bones as the weight left his crude weapon, bringing with it a surge of triumph. He was now certain of his victory.

As Delzor squinted, attempting to regain the use his burning retinas, he heard muttering. Pausing to listen, Delzor could barely make out some kind of chant in a tongue he had never before heard, that managed to send shivers down his spine. He felt the cool tunnel air grow uncomfortably hot. As his vision filled with a dull orange glow, Delzor noticed the crumpled figure of his latest foe raising its left arm in his direction.

"You!" Delzor snarled, "Your sneaky tricks end now!"

Delzor briskly stepped towards the blurry red creature, just as it made a quick slashing motion, causing something to explode where the Half-orc had stood seconds before.

The air boiled behind him, and Delzor broke out into a full run. Looking over his shoulder, Delzor's still pained eyes shot open in horror. Had he not moved, he would be quite deceased in the wake of the blazing miniature sun that spewed liquid flames onto the floor and walls. Then the blaze reached the sewage channel.

The temperature skyrocketed as the toxic river boiled, causing an explosive rush of foul air to send both combattants hurtling away from its epicenter.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed!  
The other party members will be introduced in the next chapter, which means that we will get:  
****Character development, dialogue, and an actual plot.**

**Any questions, comments, complaints, et cetera can be submitted either by review, or PM**

**As an aside, I know that typically emphasis in thought is expressed through normal font, but I feel that it looks weird, and that it doesn't really seem to convey that. Do you feel that underlining is a decent emphatic tool, or should I just follow the conventions?**

**Cheers!**


	2. Chapter 2

**And here is the second chapter. I initially planned to cover the entire jailbreak in one chapter, but I felt the urge to post the completed portion now.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter II**

Kyr woke in a cell, his wrists chained together, and his torso tightly bandaged. It hurt to breathe, and Kyr was hesitant to attempt movement, so he lay still on the cot, waiting for something to happen. Unsure of how much the authorities knew and how much was just suspicion, he contemplated the wisdom of various routes to freedom.

Protesting ignorance would never work; Kyr had no believable reason to have been in the sewer systems. Depending on the magnitude of the damage, it might just result in a fine, but that was unlikely given the shockwave that had knocked him out. Maybe he could stall for time until his ribs healed, and then break out. That was the best option, just as long as he remained in a normal cell. Holding cells never had wards to prevent the use of Magic, but the instant a prisoner entered a living cell their arcane powers were useless. Resolving to ascertain the situation before selecting his path to freedom, Kyr focused his power to accelerate his healing.

* * *

Baerik Eisenbart was many things, but patient was not one of them. Sitting in a holding cell for hours was not on the Dwarf's list of recreational activities, especially not when he had to endure Arin's lectures on morality. Ironically, the primary beneficiary of their less-than-legal acquisitions, Arin held that it was her destiny to punish all who would defy her ridiculous moral code. Any questionable conduct would result in long-winded speeches about the divine mandates of Bahamut, save for all ventures from which Arin herself would benefit. Honestly, the Human was a walking contradiction. The only reason that Baerik put up with this kind of childishness was the need for a Healer who could look the other way when they bent the laws a little.

Arin didn't even seem to care that Nadar was in a drunken stupor, completely unaware of his surroundings. The bronze Dragonborn snorted, mumbling something unintelligible in his slumber.

"Honestly_," _Baerik sighed, shaking his head, and rattling the chains braided into his beard, "Whenever you're ready, I think it's about time t' get outta here."

Recognizing the beginnings of illegal activity, Arin cut short her tirade, promptly turning to carefully examine the rear wall of the cell. As it was understood within the trio, Arin turning a blind eye was as good as being ordered to act. Thus, the moment this signal was received, Baerik roused Nadar, and the pair set about their customary method of breaking out. Baerik easily identified the weaknesses in the cell bars, and Nadar would apply necessary force as instructed. It was a brutally effective combo; the Dwarf knew the ins and outs of most metalwork, while the Dragonborn supplied enough raw strength to destroy weaker cells without instruction.

Baerik estimated another five to ten minutes, minimum, before the guards passed by again, giving the group ample time to make their escape. The dwarf had not, however, planned for their breakout to coincide with that of another attempted escape, or that the patrols had already been incapacitated.

* * *

Previously

Kyr woke feeling refreshed. His lower ribs still ached, but what pain he felt suggested residual bruising to his lungs and diaphragm. Unfortunately, the healing process had left him mentally drained. Even worse, Kyr noticed that he was not, in fact, the sole occupant of this particular cell. If he had to guess, the Half-orc that occupied the cot opposite his own was the same brutish thug that put him in this pathetic state.

"Good that you wake," the thug, as Kyr labeled his cellmate, was apparently not the most eloquent of speakers.

"I am finding this place not good, but maybe more fun with friend?" The thug's thick accent made the phrase barely register as a question. Kyr guessed from the accent, that he came from the northern regions, like Holskar or maybe Tsoshikk.

"If we were friends," Kyr's voice was carefully neutral, "Why attack me?"

The thug adopted a sheepish look at this point.

"I not always thinking before act. Was looking for cave monsters, so meet hungry-eyes in dark and hit first."

_Impulsive, likely uneducated, but clearly good at surviving._ Kyr allowed a small smile to play across his lips.

"Well, it's all in the past now," Kyr took up a warmer, genial tone, "Why don't we introduce ourselves? The name's Kyr, and you are...?"

"My name Delzor, Delzor Son of None." The thug, now identified as Delzor, stated proudly. "It good to meet you Kyr."

"The honor is mine friend Delzor, but why don't we get to know each other after we get out of here?" The Tiefling wanted out, and this new development was exactly what he needed.

"Here is bad?" Delzor looked puzzled at this.

"Sadly, yes," Kyr let out a melodramatic sigh before continuing, "It seems that the guards want to punish us for our friendly spar, hardly acceptable for proud Orc warriors." Play to his heritage, Half-orcs longed for recognition of their prowess, and the shortest way to their ego was to overlook their mixed blood. Unfortunately for Kyr, Delzor did not appear pleased with this association.

"Not Orc, Human. Orcs evil people, they not have honor!" Delzor was tensing up and raising his voice, both obvious warnings that the Half-orc was preparing to battle over this perceived insult.

"Apologies, friend Delzor, honorable Northmen rarely match your strength and size, but you are most obviously a man among men. My earlier remark was a misunderstanding, I assure you." Kyr kept his tone soothing, relaxing his posture to avoid any signs of aggression. He spoke slowly, as if to soothe a frightened animal.

_Which is not far off the mark_ Kyr admitted to himself, _Delzor is unstable, but his emotions are on full display, easy to manipulate._

"But this place not good, yes?" Delzor scratched the stubble on his chin; a nervous tic that indicated indecision.

Kyr opened his mouth to affirm this, when a woman spoke from the corridor outside the cell.

"Indeed, it is." The newcomer was of Elfin blood, a half-breed not unlike his new acquaintance. She was of average stature, with noble features and expensive-looking robes. The most prominent feature of this pale woman was the eyes; sky blue irises that seemed to illuminate the entire building if you looked into them.

Admonishing himself for his lapse in concentration, and ignoring his gaping cellmate, Kyr started to inquire as to her identity and purpose, but the woman held up a hand to stop him.

"There isn't time for introductions, I came to inform you that you two are held under suspicion of an attempt to destroy the city by means of collapsing the sewer tunnels. In light of this, you will soon be moved to a more secure location, likely to be executed for the magnitude of this perceived crime." She paused to survey her audience, before continuing, "I can give you your freedom, in exchange for your cooperation at least until we are safely out of the city. Do you accept?" This time, the woman waited expectantly for an answer, confident that the reply would be favorable. Delzor spoke first.

"Huh?" The poor man was unused to such long sentences, and the strain was visible as he tried to process the information.

"Not understanding, but this means bad yes?" To his credit, the Half-orc understood the part that really mattered.

"How do I know you are being truthful? For all we know, this could be a setup to provide justification for conviction." Kyr doubted this, given that the current evidence was likely more than enough. "My point is: what do you gain by helping us? What's your angle?"

Kyr did not expect a straightforward answer to his query.

"I want strong people to join me in forming a band of freelance adventurers," came the blunt reply, "Judging by the damage you caused, you fit the bill nicely."

"We not get much choice." Delzor observed casually. The Half-orc was clearly unperturbed by the events, judging from his indifferent expression. Delzor was an open book emotionally, so if his face was calm, so was he.

Kyr, on the other hand was loath to accept the terms, but as Delzor had said, there was little choice in the matter.

"Okay, I'm in for now," Kyr conceded, "But we will discuss the specific terms later, and if I dislike them, I _will_ leave."

Delzor nodded his assent, and the new leader of their group smiled, tapping the lock three times before whispering something inaudible. The cell door swung open, and the two escapees destroyed their respective restraints, before stepping out towards freedom.

* * *

Baerik stepped through the now empty frame that had once been the cell gate. Without stopping to check if his teammates were following, Baerik proceeded to make his way to the storeroom. Get a weapon and some gear, and then get out; the standard approach to this kind of situation. Baerik moved quickly, not bothering to sneak; the chains in his beard and the chain hauberk he wore would have rendered any attempt at stealth useless. To be frank, he was surprised that the jailors neglected to confiscate his armour. Either they were overconfident in the security of their prison, or they were dreadfully lax. In any case, this would help in his escape, so the burly Dwarf had no complaints.

Reaching the locked door to the storeroom, Baerik turned to indicate to Nadar that this door needed to move. Grunting, the seven-foot warlord complied. Wood creaked and metal screeched as Nadar wrenched free not only the padlock, but a good portion of the handle as well. Arin huffed at this, but remained mercifully silent.

"Could yeh do it any louder, yeh ruddy fool?" Baerik queried in a hushed voice. Nadar shrugged his vast shoulders, before lazily responding in his deep bass.

"I could try, but…" Nadar gestured at his diminutive friend, "You make enough noise as is."

Baerik ignored this barb, instead entering the chamber and proceeding to appraise the various weaponry on the racks.

"See if yeh can find some travel goods eh?" The dwarf asked over his shoulder.

"Arin found some," came the reply, "Find anything good?"

"Feast you're eyes on these beauties!" Baerik hefted an axe that came up to the Dwarf's shoulders. "Sturdy work; not too fancy, but it'll get the job done."

Nadar took the proffered weapon, shouldering one of the packs that Arin indicated. Baerik took his own pack, readied his own new axe before striding out of the storeroom, and colliding with another escapee.

* * *

**And so ends Chapter II. I hope it was enjoyable to you. If not, then at least it was to me.**

**I have a question for any readers who feel inclined to care: Do you guys prefer longer chapters with less frequent updates, or shorter chapters with more frequent updates? The poll is on my account page.**

**As always, let me know if I did something wrong, or if there is something about my writing that you dislike. All reviews will be considered, even if I choose not to act on the suggestion. Hopefully the next chapter will be up within the week, but all that depends on how much free time I have.**

**Cheers!**


End file.
